“This,” said the ranger, pointing to a kind of sweep fixed upon a pivot, and reaching out like a great arm, “is what I divide the waters of the falls with, while I am passing in and out of the cavern. By allowing that end to hang down as it does, it reaches through the descending sheet of water and divides it as it now is; and then by simply lowering this end and hoisting that, thus, the waters close and flow on just as they did before.”
He took her hand and assisted her from the boat, and then, lifting the glowing torch from the wall, they began ascending the rude stone steps. The ascent required much care and time, for the stones were easily displaced and a single misstep might prove fatal; but, finally, the top was reached and a dark, capacious chamber was spread out before them. The ranger stopped and held the torch above his head.
Silvia started back with a low cry of terror, for the light flashed upon the form of a huge panther crouched at her feet.
“Fear not, Miss Sanford,” said the ranger; “he will not harm you. It is Purle, my pet panther. I should have spoken of him before and saved you this sudden affright. Ay, Purle, my pet.”
The panther sprung up and capered around its master with apparent joy.
“Oh!” suddenly exclaimed Rainbolt, while caressing the beautiful creature, “I had forgotten that my other pet, Echo, my eagle, is still out. I will conduct you to your room, Miss Sanford, and then call him in.”
They moved along the rocky chamber that resounded sepulchral with their footfalls, the panther skipping playfully before them. Presently they came to where a curtain or partition of skins was stretched from one wall to the other. Lifting one corner of it they passed beyond.
“Now,” said the ranger, with a smile of embarrassment, “you are in the kitchen of Rodger Rainbolt, your humble servant. You will not find things here, even as you would in a bachelor’s kitchen in Omaha, but men are poor housekeepers, you know.”
Silvia was surprised with the neatness of the apartment, and the order and variety of its furniture; but she said nothing, fearing that the ranger might construe her language of praise as that of unmeaning and polite compliment.
Another partition of skins hanging at right-angles with the first, separated the kitchen from another apartment into which the ranger conducted the maiden.